the little Pyrrhic victory
#1
[html]

Word Count » <3


He rose, cloaked in a cold, fragile calm that held little reserve for the instability beneath. Beyond the crumbling stone of his chamber door rose the first beams of a weak sun, splitting the bruised sky with spears of brittle gold and brass. An abstract peacefulness lingered in the air, bittersweet and potent with the potential of this pre-dawn. The crystal air was sharp in his lungs, frosted and white as it poured back out in twin jets from a wet black nose.


He gathered his things, and set them out on the packed earthen floor. There was a bone comb, an old mirror tarnished with years and with callous ownership; a collection of trinkets of all exotic flavors, with gemstones that twinkled like beady eyes; an intimidating assortment of daggers, each glorified by carved handles of ivory, metal or wood, inlaid with a trifling of jewels; a menagerie of pelts in all shapes and sizes, plush and soft or silky and fine, ripped from the corpses of animals hunted in this place, or a place far far beyond the great water; a roll of yellowed parchment that crackled when his fingers clasped it. There was his chest, an old thing made from polished pine, carved by human hands in an age gone past and strapped with rusted metal. For so long it had held his possessions safe, hoarded from the world beyond his grasping clawed hands. Now, it would be useless to him; The man left it where it had sat, open and desperately empty.


The sun was bursting at the edges of the world, now, and a sense of urgency began to spill into his reptile veins, fueling him with decisive action. There were a few errands left to do; he could spend little time on frivolities. The items were sorted, bundled in little pouches of leather and intestine and placed in the leather saddlebags he had brought, or else strapped with twine and little thongs to the belt that straddled his slender hips. A bottle of ink was retrieved from the ordered pile of belongings, and a long splendid feather taken from the tail of an old companion. The quill moved quickly, sharply, across one of the sheets of parchment, leaving strange symbols in the bleeding ebony liquid. He paused at a word, and a droplet of the immense black marred the neatness of the print. Hardly noticing, the man continued to scribble, not frantically, but mechanically, precisely, in the controlled method with which he did all things.


Dearest Salvia, eyes the color of luminous acid skimmed the words once, felt them fall away from his bowed shoulders and pour out of the cramped confines of his mind. He rose, and placed the letter in the ancient stone throne that stood sentry in the middle of his chamber. Claws fingers rasped once, with an echo of sentimentality, over the armrests, but did not linger.


The rest of the items were poured into a larger pack, made from a stretched, oiled and treated hide gathered tight at one end by a thick twisting of rope. He threw it over one shoulder, gathered up the saddlebags, and stood for a moment in the bleary doorway; Gazing at the secrets of the room with eyes that saw far away, far from the brick and the stone and the mortality of those who had lingered within. The sense of urgency rasped again at his neck, traipsed down his spine in a cold chill, and Sirius Revlis, first King of Salsola and monarch of the Thistle Realm, left his throneroom for the last time.


The two boys were waiting for him, out in the dim light of dawn. They said nothing - Each knew well the momentous weight of this morning, and each feared their father enough to obey without question. Yet, more so, the terror of being left behind, being removed from his great adventure, quelled them to silence and eager obedience. Before the eldest, a skinny, dark fellow with eyes as poisonous as his sire's, Sirius crouched; a larger leather parcel, strapped with twine, was placed on the ground and taken up at once in the maw of the skinny boy. "To Eris. Meet us as the stables; Remain unseen," His voice was soft and serpentine, and Lokr slipped away into the shadows. His brother's eyes glowed, faintly excited at the prospect of being given a similar task, but Sirius merely rose and headed in the direction of the location he had given.


Practice made his hands fleet, and he saddled the silver mare swiftly. She wuffled at his dark locks, and he pushed her silky muzzle away to finish the task. Tiger would mourn the loss of his dame, but the colt was strong and feisty already, and needed not the coddling of another mother. One pair of the saddlebags was thrown across her back and fastened to the black leather saddle along with the thick plushness of the man's bearpelt cloak, and she stood patiently in the hallway of the barn as Sirius walked amongst the other stalls, finally selecting the little rust-hued pony and leading him from his stall. To him was strapped the other goods, extra bags, and a soft covering of pelts for his sons to sit atop. Larkkin was lifted onto the back of the pony just as Lokr appeared from the darkness, his panting maw empty of the gift that had been left to the ebony woman. He sat in front of his brother, dark paws perched on the beast's flecked withers, eyes eagerly watching the dark form of his father as he led both horses out into the growing light.


The ride from the kingdom was silent, and they slipped away unnoticed, cowardly in the end. It would be easier this way, than to have to explain himself to the young woman, have to find new lies with which to placate her sharp lime gaze. The lies felt hollow to him now, as all things had - No taste, no joy, no pride. Luna's silver hooves chimed on the pebbles in the belly of the Pictou, the splashing sounds of their crossing swallowed by the river's rippling song. Just before they broke the borders, a mournful shriek rang out across the territory; Not the cry of a luperci, but the call of a single peacock, greeting the sun as it rose again, splendid over the thistle kingdom. Noble's song would raise no alarm, but for Sirius, it was a poetic farewell.


He rode to the mountains, to the place where he had finally stopped tracking the scent of the eagle and returned to the call of his people-no-longer. Crownless, Sirius Revlis was just another man; A freed man. No responsibility held him back now, and although the scent was stale, the Hunter was at last released from his chains. He followed the track till a point where time had worn it away, and there, felt an overwhelming sense of loss - His plan had not made recompense for this, this failure. Sickness churned in his gut, but pressed by the urgency of his need, Sirius dismounted and moved about on foot, casting again and again for sign of his lover.


Desperation pushed him into the depths of the forest, a madman followed by two horses and two wide-eyed boys, naive to the ways of the world and their wicked, wonderful father. As despair began to fill him, a dread most severe, the man's searing gaze caught an anomaly in the bark of a nearby pine. Color burst within him; Light, sound, a maddened glee, peeling black lips back into a ferocious smile as he neared the trunk, his fingers reaching to lightly caress the symbol engraved there. "Si sapeva che sarebbe venuto," Hot breath rushed between his yellowed teeth, a heated whisper as he moved from this tree, a yard onto the next It was also marked with the familiar round shapes, the ones that mirror the engraving on the ring that glittered on his finger. "Sapevi che sarebbe venuto per te, leggera," Whistling the silver mare to him, Sirius remounted, his harks tall, the scars on his chest leaping and twisting to life with each deep breath.


Then, the small party disappeared into the shadows of the forest, out into the unknown, where a proud eagle soared and a terrible hunter ruled the shadows.


<style>
.siritxt {font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height:20px; letter-spacing:0px; word-spacing:2px; text-align: left; margin:0px 25px; padding:0px 0px 5px 0px; margin:5px auto; width:500px; }
.siritxt .inner {background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/8Hs2Q.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; padding:122px 0px 0px 0px;}
.siritxt .ooc {font-style:italic; font-family:tahoma, verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:justify; margin:5px auto; width:100%;}
.siritxt .wc {text-transform: uppercase; font-weight:bold; font-style:normal;}
.siritxt p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding:0px 5px;}
.siritxt b {letter-spacing:1px; }
.siritxt u {text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; font-style:italic; font-variantConfusedmall-caps;}
</style>
[/html]


Forum Jump: